Watershed Dreams
by up-on-spindles
Summary: For the Furlings, Dreams are everything. But when Dreams dictate they embrace their first visitors in centuries, will this once mighty race be ready for change? AU. Slash. For two challenges: explore the Furlings, and Daniel is given to Jack as a gift.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: This story is an AU written to answer two challenge requests from Area 52: Create a culture for the long-ignored Furlings, and Daniel is from another planet and is given to Jack as a gift. I have tried to combine both into one long story.

It's a WIP and when completed, will be posted as a one shot on various archives. The fic posted at will be edited for content to meet rating limitations on this site.

* * *

Prologue 

This evening, the Dream was a peculiar mixture of sensual eroticism and the obscure. Visions flickered through the dreamer's unconscious mind, sired by unknown means and vital to the function of the dreamer's society. It didn't matter that some of the images were unrecognizable to current knowledge; all Dreams contained symbols needing interpretation, be it by dreamers themselves or by those trained to decipher Dreams.

This evening, the Dream was strong. Dan'i'el's eyes snapped open as he abruptly jerked into an awakened state. When his breath settled to a more manageable pace, Dan'i'el slid off his sleep-pad to immediately record his Dream in the journal always kept upon his padside table. Though every Dream was important, there was something startling and prophetic about this one. The remnants of it seemed to burn along Dan'i'el's blood and invigorate his heart with a newly kindled energy.

So complicated and intricate, It would take a member of the White caste to interpret the symbols of this Dream for Dan'i'el. For this Dream had the feel of something that could forever alter the secluded lifestyle of the Furlings.

* * *

Ch 1 

The Doorway to Heaven disengaged as Colonel Jack O'Neill's team warily stepped onto the soil of a new world. Video from the standard MALP and UAV had revealed groves of forested areas, several ponds, and a karst-like topography. The preliminary data also revealed naquadah reserves unlike anything the Doorway Command had ever seen, which was why this mission had been bumped up on the schedule.

The clincher for Doorway Site 1492 was video clearly showing children playing in a meadow dotted with brightly colored tent structures. They'd been located several rolling hills away from the Doorway, but close enough for first contact.

"Fan out, and let's see if DS1492 lives up to Carter's promises." Jack squinted into the sunlight and performed a quick assessment of the surroundings. Good. No obvious hostiles or Goa'uld occupation, he noted to himself, but the hilly terrain and tree groves cast shadowy areas in the distance that might pose a problem.

"DHD looks fine," Sam said from somewhere to his right.

"Good. Why don't you snag those samples ASAP, Carter," Jack said. "Just in case the folks here aren't looking for company. There's something about this place...," his words trailed off and he turned to the remainder of his team. "Bra'tac? Anything look familiar? Kawalsky? Your little friend getting any bad vibes from this place?"

"This is not a world I am familiar with, Colonel O'Neill." Bra'tac's body radiated a tension Jack found nearly palpable. He kicked up his surveillance and nodded at his Jaffa team member.

"Well, I figured you would have mentioned it at the briefing. Kawalsky? Any heebie-jeebies?" He smiled half-heartedly at his old friend.

"No sir," Charlie said, offering a sloppy solute. "Jolinar's a little bit nervous, but I think that's because she's not too crazy about trees." He was silent for a moment, and then smiled wickedly. "She thinks that pond over there shows signs of some good fishing though."

"A Tok'ra after my own heart," Jack said with a casual air not reflected in his rigid stance. "The little bitty…tiny… microscopic chunk reserved for the Tok'ra," he corrected, earning a stuck-out tongue and a flash of glowing eyes that was most certainly not Major Charles Kawalsky's doing.

Bra'tac began descending the grassy slope where the Doorway was located. "There is nothing obviously disturbing about this planet," he said over his shoulder. "However, my symbiote appears to be agitated."

Sam tapped a palm sized instrument in her hand when she caught up to Jack and Charlie. "I've never seen some of these elements, but there's nothing registering that would indicate a danger to a Goa'uld or symbiote. Well, there's a trace of an unknown radiation. I'll keep an eye on it, but for now, I don't think it's harmful," she added as all three caught up with Bra'tac.

Bra'tac bowed his head in acceptance. "I believe what you say, Major Carter. Nevertheless, there is something unsettling."

"Alright. Keep your heads up, people," Jack said. He gestured with the hand not clasping his weapon. "This terrain could hide anything, and I'd _really_ like to get home in one piece tonight."

They walked in relative silence for the next hour and a half, making slow progress over hills and rocks. The team stopped several times to allow Sam a chance to pull a soil sample while Jack, Bra'tac, and Charlie checked out the area. The later two still looked vaguely upset, but Jack wasn't particularly sensing danger. For him, it was more of a tingle of expectation. He wasn't a poetic man by any means. Even so, he could only imagine the feeling as a subtle haze that had blanketed his bones with an aura of anticipation. Not that he'd ever allude to something quite that descriptive aloud.

Charlie's sudden dip of his head drew Jack from his musings. "We are being watched," Jolinar said in the eerily resonating version of Major Kawalsky's voice. It still never failed to creep Jack out, though this time, his attention immediately sharpened on his surroundings.

"There. In the shadow of that slope near the very large tree."

Both Jack and Sam swung their weapons in a defensive position. Bra'tac adjusted his staff weapon but made no further movement.

"O'Neill, Major Carter. I believe it is a child."

"I think he's right, Sir." Sam allowed her weapon to tip lower and glanced at Jack. "We know from the UAV that this world was inhabited. And these samples…um…well, they're incredible!"

"Which means you're gonna wanna dialog with them," Jack surmised. He relaxed his weapon enough to free one hand, swipe his cap from his sweaty head, and stow it in a pocket.

Sam nodded and smiled brilliantly. "Just these samples alone, with a preliminary analysis with the Tok'ra hand tech, are already showing amazing concentrations of naquadah and heavy traces of gold as well."

"The child moves closer," Bra'tac said abruptly. He placed one palm across his stomach in the area of his symbiote pouch.

"You okay?" Charlie asked. He adopted the blank look he wore when he was communicating with Jolinar. "Jolinar's still only feeling a little weird, but she thinks the discomfort is increasing."

Jack looked sharply at his teammates.

"It's not painful for us," Charlie added, just as Bra'tac said, "It is uncomfortable, but bearable."

Sam and Jack exchanged another glance. 'Watch them', he silently indicated with a narrowing o his eyes. Super-duper grade naquadah was all fine and dandy, but not at the cost of half his team.

Sam gave a tentative wave at the child, who returned it shyly. "If both Bra'tac and Jolinar are affected by something carried by this child, it could indicate that these people hold technology that works against the Goa'uld."

"Are we talking Thor's Hammer here?"

"I'm not sure, Sir. There wasn't any indication of obvious technology, but we've been duped before by the Nox," Sam said wryly. "We should probably take our cues from Bra'tac and Jolinar."

Bra'tac moved his staff weapon to a less threatening position. "I agree with Major Carter. The address of this word was provided by her computer program rather than off the lists both the Tok'ra and I provided. This world may not yet be tainted by the System Lords."

Charlie had taken control of himself again and had squatted down before the child. "Hey there," he said, offering a kind smile. "Do you understand me?"

The girl babbled something in a quick-paced language, and then pointed in the direction of the Doorway.

"I'm thinking she knows how we got here," Jack said. He scanned the area for threats again and turned to assess the girl. She seemed young, perhaps eight or ten years of age, and wore only a simple cloth dress and bits of beaded jewelry. Her hair was long and unbound and her feet were bare. She appeared healthy and very curious, and Jack had to bite down on a chuckle when she leaned close and poked Charlie in the nose.

The girl giggled and spoke in the odd language again.

"Anybody recognize that?"

Bra'tac and Charlie shook their heads. Sam though, was frowning at her hand-held gizmo. "Carter?" Jack tilted his head toward her while keeping his eyes glued to the little girl.

"I think _she's _emitting the low levels of that radiation," Sam said in wonder. "Or she has something on her that is." When her teammates glanced at her, she added, "Nothing lethal, I think, but also nothing I've ever seen before." She gestured at Bra'tac's abdomen. "Might be the cause of what's upsetting the symbiotes, Sir."

Charlie was bemusedly allowing the girl to paw at his vest. "If I knew how often we'd make first contact with kids, I would have taken that baby-sitting class way back when."

Jack quirked a smile absently, but his attention was truly on assessing his team before deciding on their next move. Sam was obviously curious, but not very concerned, while Charlie appeared to be handling his and Jolinar's discomfort well. Bra'tac looked like he was valiantly trying to hide a case of bad gas. The girl seemed non-threatening though, and the fact that she might be in possession of something Goa'uld-repellant made contact more of a priority.

"Let's see if we can score an invite back to her village," Jack said. As if she'd understood him, she turned and headed back though the shallow valley she'd appeared from, beckoning them to follow.

"Well then," Jack muttered under his breath.

"We should watch her to see if she can actually understand English. She wouldn't be the first person to play us that way," Charlie said.

"Feigning ignorance is a tested and reliable tactic," Bra'tac added. He grimaced again before disguising the indication of pain, but Jack caught it.

"And pretending you don't hurt when you're in pain can be a stupid tactic when you're not in the middle of being tortured." Jack reached out to put one hand on Bra'tac's shoulder. "Just say the word. You too, Kawalsky. If either of you feel wiggy, I want you back though the Doorway. If Carters right, and these people have something we can use to fight the Goa'uld, we don't need you guys as casualties. Now let's follow little Heidi here and see if we can make any headway with her people. Keep sharp. Carter, take point."

When he had received nods of acknowledgement from everyone, he waited until both Bra'tac and Charlie began following before taking up the rear. After five years together, he trusted the Jaffa rebel and the Tok'ra in Kawalsky with his life. He didn't particularly trust them with their own health though, and vowed to watch them along with the perimeter.

* * *

The hike to their village added another hour onto their journey. Jack split his attention between the lush scenery and his ailing friend. Charlie didn't seem too awful, perhaps a little sluggish on uphill climbs, but Bra'tac appeared distinctly ill.

The young girl had latched onto Sam's hand a while back and now pulled her along enthusiastically. There was still no communication between the girl and DC1 though; not for the first time did Jack wish the D.C. would allow one of the military linguists through the Doorway.

"Hear that?" Charlie wondered as they ascended a moderately steep slope. Jack concentrated but could only hear the same birds and insects that had accompanied them on their hike.

"No, but the path we're on now sees a lot of traffic." He scuffed a boot across the chipped rock. "Enough that these guys had to build up a better surface so it doesn't become a mud pit."

"I too hear music," Bra'tac said. "We may be reaching the village viewed on the briefing video." And not soon enough, Jack added silently. Bra'tac was too damn stoic and should have asked to rest by now. Not that he wouldn't have pulled the same thing, but that didn't count.

Jack picked up his pace and caught up with Sam. The girl appeared to be chattering happily and tugged on Sam's hand.

Sam looked a little bewildered. "I've got nothing, Sir." She said. She flashed a quick smile at the girl, who continued to babble. "She's very sweet. But whatever she's saying, it sounds like…"

"A bunch of squirrels fighting over the last peanut?" Jack suggested.

Sam flushed a little. "Sorry, but yes. I don't think she's leading us into anything dangerous, if that helps. And how's Bra'tac?"

"Oh, you know how it is," he drawled with a flamboyant wave of his hand. "A little bit of eyebrow, a dash of denial. I'm ordering a break if this village isn't over the next hill."

The girl looked over her shoulder at Jack, grinned, and said something while pointing off into the distance.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm fresh out of acorns, sorry kid."

Not long after, Jack could hear the music too. Plus he could smell evidence of open cookfires, and he'd bet his left nut that he'd caught a whiff of something like marijuana as well. The path curled through a valley that opened up into meadow wider than any they'd seen so far.

He blinked and nearly missed his next step. Not much had thrown Jack off his stride since they'd embraced Door travel. Before him, though, looked like a scene right out of Woodstock.

"Groovy, man," Charlie said softly at Jack's side. A quick scan of the gently sloping valley and clearing revealed the tents they'd seen on the UAV tape. Children still played in the open spaces between the draped cloth, but so much more was going on beneath. From the ground, Jack noticed that the tents were open sided canopies decorated with multicolored fringes. Villagers were gathered in various pursuits beneath these tents. He appreciated the design- a clear sightline was always a plus- but acknowledged that it made DC1 more visible as well.

As they drew near the first grouping of tents, their young guide released Sam's hand and ran toward one that was constructed of bright, yellow cloth.

"I guess we're on our own." Jack scanned the surroundings once again.

Often, activity stopped and the inhabitants stared when a DC team Doorway-traveled to an inhabited planet. Here, no one else seemed to have noticed or cared about their arrival. Several adults edged the tent the girl had disappeared beneath, but they all faced within. Some were playing instruments and others were clapping along with the music. Both genders were in a variety of states of dress, all wearing clothing that appeared homespun. All of them had long hair like the girl, though it appeared the adults wore colored ribbons woven into braids.

"This is different," Sam said. She had regained her grip on her weapon and was watching the adults at the tent fringe as DC1 passed by.

Charlie pointed at a small group of young women that were sharing a jar of brown liquid. "They way their acting, I don't think they have to worry about the bad guys coming to visit. Kind of reminds me a little of Argos, hey Colonel?" Jack just grunted in response.

They followed a half-hazard aisle between tents until Sam froze. Jack nearly waked into her and Charlie actually did bump into his side.

"Carter?" Jack followed Sam's gaze and realized she was staring wide-eyed at several villagers whom were rather blatantly enjoying carnal acts together. "Well, then. Not something you see every day."

Charlie's eyes flashed. "It appears they are an affectionate people," Jolinar said dryly while they were treated to a knot of bare skin.

"They certainly are," Jack murmured. He was more interested in the thin, pink lines of an abdominal pouch he thought he'd seen one of the orgy participants, something that distinctly resembled the Jaffa symbiote pouch he was unfortunately familiar with. Another reason to keep alert.

Sam shook her head as if her ears were clogged. "Maybe we should avert our eyes. We don't actually know if it's rude to…uh," she gave a wane grin, "um…to watch?"

They walked further and passed a couple engaged in the same sort of activity, this time beneath a red tent sporting threadlike fringes.

"These guys definitely know how to have a good time," Charlie said, smirking.

Jack glanced around. "I don't think we're gonna find any boy scouts here." He felt a light brush on his shoulder and turned to Bra'tac, who'd been silent all this time. "Not looking so hot there, Bra'tac."

Bra'tac's pallor had sharply deteriorated since Jack had last looked closely. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he looked ready to drop.

"I am unwell," he said, his voice hoarse. "I believe my symbiote is suffering greatly."

"Carter? Kawalsky? Hold up." Jack waved them back and jerked his head toward their Jaffa team member. "Bra'tac looks like crap. How's Jolinar doing?" he added, avoiding Bra'tac's narrowed eyes.

Charlie's head dipped. "I am ill as well. It is not completely intolerable."

"Ever have about five chili dogs and a super sized Coke and then ride a Tilt-A-Whril?" Charlie said when he regained control.

"That bad, huh?" Jack frowned and felt the tension in his jaw. He shielded his eyes from the midday sun in order to assess his team. Bra'tac was leaning heavily on his staff weapon. Charlie's eyes were creased in the way Jack knew meant he was hiding a migraine. "We may need to call this a bust and head back to the Door. Maybe come back with a snake-less team; no offense Jolinar, Bra'tac."

"There's definitely something here that's anti-Goa'uld," Sam said, gesturing around them. "I really think we need to find a way to communicate with these people; maybe see if we can locate the girl again. If I had more time to analyze—Sir!" She broke off when Bra'tac crumpled to the grass.

* * *

Feedback is appriciated! This story is extensively outlined, but the writing is in progress so updates will be irregular. Any insights could be helpful in smoothing things out. Thank you!

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for those who have reviewed or decided to watch for this story. I had to do a little shuffling around because Bra'tac went and fell ill earlier than my outline had planned. I've also discovered that it's a pain in the butt to try and spellcheck broken English. Thankfully Dan'i'el will be smart enough to pick it up sooner than later!

ETA: I try to double space between paragraphs, but I'm not getting any results when it posts. Sorry about that!

* * *

Watershed Dreams CH 2

"Carter!" Jack snapped, torn between dropping to Bra'tac's side and watching their backs. Charlie had already rushed to Bra'tac and was now stripping off the Jaffa armor efficiently.

"He's breathing but unconscious," Sam called out from where she knelt at Bra'tac's head.

Jack couldn't suppress his wince when Charlie plunged his hand into the symbiote pouch and withdrew a very limp infant Goa'uld.

"He must've been way worse off than I feel," Charlie said while gently manipulating the larva. We need to get him out of here and find another." He brought the infant Goa'uld up close to his face to inspect it closely and added, "Jolinar says this thing looks like shit."

"_Jolinar_ says?" Jack asked, but it was a half-hearted attempt at levity. He should've expected this mission to be a spectacular fuck-up from the get go. It was uncommon these days to get through a month of missions without a casualty. They were all indebted to Bra'tac a hundred times over, no matter his alien status. There was no way Jack would let his friend slip away on a planet full of natives porking each other.

"We need to find that kid." Just as those words were out, however, Jack realized the team had finally attracted some of the natives. A young man and two women had approached, murmuring softly in the same chattery tongue spoken by the child. All three wore their hair in wrapped in ribbons intertwined with long braids that hung to their waists. The young man was clothed in a simple, burgundy tunic and a jeweled dagger was strapped to his bare calf. One of the women was attired likewise, though her tunic was a shade of dark green, while the third native wore an ankle length skirt and knit shirt. Jack was almost sure that the third was concealing a dagger as well; it was just another thing to keep cautious about when dealing with an unknown world.

Jack lifted his weapon enough to hint at being a threat without blatant aggression. He hated making the concession. "We followed a little girl to your village and now I have a man down. He needs help. H…E…L…P. Do you even have a clue about what I'm saying?" he added, his frustration bubbling forth when the newcomers continued to stare at him. They stepped backwards at the hostility displayed and chattered to each other again, shooting glances at Jack and Bra'tac the entire time.

"Sir?" Sam said. Jack could hear the reprimand in her voice and frowned. Lips pursed, he puffed out a harsh breath; he knew he shouldn't piss these people off. Whatever was making Bra'tac and Jolinar ill could be the very thing Earth was looking for in their fight against the Goa'uld. The promise of a motherload weapon was enough reason to stifle his anger, but it chafed like hell.

The natives were watching him expectantly now. Jack gestured at Bra'tac, who lie supine in the soft grass with both Charlie and Sam working franticly to revive him. "My friend is sick," he tried again, voice tempered. "Is there anything you can do to help?" His palm was open and upturned as close as he could come to begging in a first contact situation like this. "Kawalsky? Try Goa'uld."

Charlie replaced the weak symbiote and dropped his head to allow Jolinar to come to the forefront. The Tok'ra said something to the natives—Jack assumed this was the same plea he'd made—and Charlie's eyes flashed briefly.

The naives looked puzzled now, and the young man stepped forward again. This time he inspected Bra'tac more closely.

"Are we okay with this, Colonel?" She motioned with her eyes between Bra'tac and the native.

"Wait a sec, Carter."

The native knelt to touch Bra'tac on the chest. He looked up at Jack and said softly, "Jaffa?"

"Now we're getting somewhere," Jack murmured. Much louder, he asked, "Jolinar? See if this guy understands you."

Jolinar said something else, but the native shook his head. He pointed at Bra'tac again and then at Charlie. "Jaffa? Goa'uld?"

"Tok'ra," Charlie said, taking control again. "Friendly, yeah?" He turned back toward Jack and said, "This guy doesn't know what Jolinar's saying, but he sure as hell knows something because we never said anything about Jaffa."

Jack noticed the woman in the skirt was watching them all with narrowed eyes. "You," he said, now feeling suspicious, "Do you understand us?" The second woman, whom was hiding behind the first, peeked from behind.

"Sick," she said so softly that Jack barely heard.

"Yes, sick. Can you help my friend?" His patience was drawing near snapping point and he had to struggle valiantly to withhold it from his voice.

The young man touched Bra'tac on his neck, symbiote pouch, and eyelids before scrambling back to his feet. He walked right in front of Jack, either not concerned over the P-90 pointed at his abdomen or completely ignorant of it.

"Del'i'neq." The native twirled his finger around in a spiral and then mimed walking with his index and middle finger.

"You want me to follow you. All of you? You're all Del'i'neq or is walking Del'i'neq?"

The young man thumped himself in the chest and waved a hand at the women this time. "Del'i'neq. Tel'i'nel. Bel'i'lune." He reached to tap Jack on the chest before Jack could respond to the invasion of his personal space. "Colonel?"

Jack was beginning to catch on and decided to roll with it; he could play the name game just fine if he must. "O'Neill. Colonel Jack O'Neill," he said with his palm splayed across his chest. He loosened his grip on his weapon to appear more approachable, no matter what he truly felt.

Del'i'neq must have approved of this because he smiled brightly. Jack couldn't suppress a weary sigh. This was going to be rough.

"Sir," Sam said, "we need to get him back to the Doorway if we can't get though to these people." She and Charlie began to lift Bra'tac as best they could. One of the native women joined them to assist.

"Colonel Jack O' Neill," said the woman in the skirt that had been introduced as Bel'i'lune, "Sick." She looked like she was concentrating very hard and added, "Sick to shade."

"It's lookin' like the best option," Charlie said with a grunt as he helped support Bra'tac's heavy frame.

Sam hummed an agreement. "Even between the three of us, it might take too long to get back to the Doorway."

"And no offence in case you can hear me Bray," Charlie added, "but this guy's built like a brick shithouse. It'll be slow going."

They all looked to Jack, including Bel'i'lune, who was beckoning them to follow her now. Jack stared off at an unspecified point in the distance. Life or death command decisions were the hardest; a situation could be so precariously balanced on a blade's edge that one poor choice could force everything to tumble. His teams' absolute trust was empowering, but also a burden he nevertheless voluntarily carried.

"We'll go with the squirrel-people," he finally said and met everyone's eyes. "They know the score around here. Maybe there's some kind of voodoo-thingie that'll help." He nodded at the natives and the entire group moved back down the path toward a more concentrated area of tents.

* * *

Charlie, Sam, and the native introduced as Tel'i'nel struggled to carry Bra'tac without jostling him too much. Others were drawn to the edges of their tents by the odd procession. The natives studied the newcomers just as intently as Jack evaluated them. 

Although they were all of varying skin tones and facial features, all had long hair in braids or unbound, plus all hairstyles were adorned with ribbons. Many of them wore jewelry as well. Quite a few were also either totally or partially nude, with an appealing, fit physique. Jack tried not to be distracted by topless women with softly rounded breasts on display, or, more dangerous for him in particular, the taut thighs and freely swinging genitals of several of the men.

"I guess we know they're smart enough to not invent circumcision," Jack said under his breath, but obviously not quiet enough because it elicited a snort from Charlie.

There was no mistaking the proliferation of daggers displayed prominently by the natives though. Nor had he been wrong about how the women bore the criss-cross over their abdomens he usually associated with Jaffa. Most disturbingly, some natives had gone to fetch quivers full of arrows to accompany short bows they now held.

It looked to Jack like these free-spirited people had been aware of their arrival all along.

"To shade. Enter." Bel'i'lune's voice broke Jack's concentration and he stopped at the perimeter of a very large, orange tent canopy dangling with orange fringes. The three natives they'd met first started chattering what seemed like instructions to some of the surrounding people from the way they began to scatter.

Jack startled when Del'i'neq touched his hand. "Sick to shade. Colonel Jack O' Neill to wait," he said, nodding at Jack and pointing at the tent.

"Whatever you say." Jack brushed the fringes from his path and followed Del'i'neq in. There wasn't much to see; several hammocks dangled between the support beams and large cushions were scattered on a packed-dirt floor. Everything beneath the canopy was washed in an orange tint from the way the sunlight struck the material.

Tel'i'nel said something to Del'i'neq, then helped Sam and Charlie guide Bra'tac to one of the hammocks. They gingerly placed him into one and halted its swinging motion when they stepped away. Bel'i'lune waved them toward the opposite side of the tent and began inspecting Bra'tac.

"No more cheeseburgers for that guy," Charlie said, dropping to a squat and panting heavily.

Sam appeared just as winded. "We'll remember that the next time you're the unconscious one."

"So," Jack said, clapping his hands once while his team caught their breath, "I'm not too keen on the decorating, but they are some _snazzy_ dressers!"

"I hope they're ready to be friends," said Charlie, grinning slyly. "I wouldn't mind spending a day or two here on vacation, if you know what I mean."

Sam was watching Bel'i'lune fuss over Bra'tac, her chin propped on her folded arms as she sat on the dirt floor. "It must be liberating to have no inhibitions like these people."

"Liberating, or stupid," Jack said. He flicked his eyes over at the slowly growing group of natives that surrounded Bra'tac. "I don't trust them yet though. I'm sure they understand some of what we're saying. And most of them are armed with a blade and good old fashioned bows and arrows."

"They weren't threatening us with them," said Sam. "In fact, I think those short daggers they were wearing might be more of a decoration because they aren't easily accusable. Though I have to wonder why it looks like the women have symbiote pouches…"

Charlie's eyes glowed and Jolinar spoke. "Unfortunately, I do not have much information to add. I know of no other races that were used to incubate a symbiote. I do suspect something."

"And? But? You suspect what?" Jack prompted when Jolinar fell silent, waving his hand in a circle. Sometimes Tok'ra could be a little overdramatic, but he was willing to cut Jolinar some slack because of whatever was making his two friends sick. He glanced over at Bra'tac again out of habit; nothing had changed.

"I recall an ancient race, one that fought the Goa'uld and dropped out of sight hundreds of years ago. They fought at the side of other great races."

"So you think it could be these guys?" Jack said, becoming interested despite himself. "Something obviously hurt Junior and you, Jolinar."

Charlie took over again with a confused expression on his face. "She's taking a minute to think about it. She's still not doing so well." He was quiet, and then said, "She remembers something about them having very long hair; that could be anyone though. And they were very technologically advanced."

"I didn't see any caves, tents, or bows and arrows on '_The Jetsons_'." Jack folded his arms and leaned against a sturdy pole.

"But wait, sir," Sam said. She had that eage expression on her face that Jack alternately feared and anticipated. "Maybe these people _did_ lose their society and they were refuges that carved out a life for themselves. We've seen it before. The address for this planet was cold dialed. Plus, we've seen an advanced society disguised as something more primitive before with the Nox."

"And a whole lotta help _that_ was."

Charlie started pacing the length of their side of the tent. "Way back when we first went thought the Doorway for Littlefield. That one time, you know, with the old team: me, you, Sam and Feretti? And Catherine? We were at that planet with all those different languages in a repository thing."

"What about it?" asked Jack.

"Catherine took a lot of info off it before the fortress collapsed. She never did get a chance to study much of what we brought back before she died."

Sam jumped to her feet, obviously excited. "You think one of these languages might belong to the naives here? That's entirely possible. We should bring samples of their writing back with us for the civilian linguists and archeologists to compare…"

"Woah woah woah!" Jack interrupted, waving his hands back and forth. "We still don't even know if we can trust these people. Maybe if they can help Bra'tac, get him stabilized or something to get him back to the Doorway-" He cut himself off when the tent fringes were pushed aside and their young guide came in, trailed by two more adults.

"Hi," Sam said. "I wasn't sure if we'd see you again!" She waggled her fingers at the little girl, much like she'd done when they'd first met. The girl smiled back and glanced over her shoulder at the man and woman that had followed her into the tent.

"And now she comes back," Jack said while he casually appraised the new arrivals. Jeez. This planet might suck for the snakes, but it was doing wonders for his libido. At least this woman was clothed. She had a kind, rounded face with red and yellow ribbons twisted into the plaits of her hair. The man was clad only in a cloth kilt and displayed more butter-soft looking skin than Jack really needed to dwell on right now. He tore his eyes away from inappropriate places to meet the native's inquisitive gaze.

"Hey," he said stupidly. He glanced at Sam and Charlie, then the two new adults before settling on the little girl. "You disappeared on us, missy."

"Not Missy," the kilted native said, threading his fingers through the little girl's hair. "Kel'i'neq." He smiled down at the young girl and looked back up at Jack, Sam, and Charlie. "Dan'i'el. Jon'i'quill," he added, gesturing toward the woman at his side. He reached and placed his palm flat against Jack's chest and looked at him expectantly. Jack had to fight not to step back.

"We're playing Romper room again, oh goody." He waited until both Charlie and Sam had introduced themselves before saying, "Colonel Jack O' Neill. And that's Bra'tac over there with your planet's version of the pushy doctor. Anytime you wanna give us a heads up on what the hell's going on with him, by the way...".

Much to Jack's relief, Dan'i'el dropped his hand from Jack's chest and chattered something to the woman he'd introduced as Jon'i'quill. They argued for a moment- Jack was vaguely amused at being reminded about his earlier comparisons to squirrels fighting—and then the woman bowed her head and crossed to the other side of the tent to speak to the natives working on Bra'tac.

"Kel'i'neq say Colonel Jack O' Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Major Charles Kawalsky say old trade words. Dan'i'el be...believe Kel'i'neq words because Minder-kin." Dan'i'el's entire body seemed to tremble with eagerness. His eyes met Jack's and he pleaded, "Speak trade words, yes?" Then he caught one of Jack's hands and enveloped it between both of his own.

Jack opened his mouth and shut it, unsure of what to say. Dan'i'el's words were fumbled and somewhat intelligible, but he was more concerned over the sudden and shocking jolt of desire that had just swept though his body as Dan'i'el's fingers slid against his. Damn.

"I knew these guys spoke English," said Charlie. "You wanna tell us what you've got on this planet that bugs the Goa'uld so much?"

Dan'i'el shook his head and frowned, the furrow between his eyes deepening. "You friend to Goa'uld?"

"Not in this lifetime," said Jack. He pulled his hand free and held it up to hold off any explanation Charlie might have had. It was an excuse to compose himself, but he finally turned back toward Dan'i'el. "We're from Earth. We travel through the Doorway to Heaven looking for allies and all kinds of great big space guns to defend Earth and fight the Goa'uld." He watched as Dan'i'el quirked a confused smile. "And you obviously don't understand most of what I'm saying, do you?"

"You speak the trade words fast," Dan'i'el said, clearly struggling with his sentence. "Old words. Not many read or say them. Most blue caste."

"Blue caste?" said Sam at the same time Jack said, "Some of you can read it too?"

Dan'i'el nodded but was interrupted from replying by the arrival of Jon'i'quill. They chattered back and forth, Jon'i'quill gesturing widely back at Bra'tac, and then her words began taking on a sharper tone- at least to Jack's ears anyway. Dan'i'el's eyes flicked over to meet Jack's before he said some things back to his companion, clearly flushing from anger or embarrassment. Jon'i'quill stalked off to the tent edge and stopped just outside the fringes.

"What do you suppose that's about?" Charlie whispered.

Jack had watched the exchange carefully. He couldn't shake the impression that the woman didn't want Dan'i'el and young Kel'i'neq to spend too much time with DC1.

"Jon'i'quill say friend Bra'tac better, half-day," said Dan'i'el. Jack was pretty sure there was more to that conversation than his teammate's health.

"Can you tell us what damaged the symbiote?" asked Sam.

Rather than answer, Dan'i'el spoke to the girl in their native tongue, to which she listened attentively. Jack was surprised when Dan'i'el then sat upon the dirt, cross-legged. He looked directly at Jack, holding a hand out to him. Jack shot him a haughty look before joining him on the ground without assistance.

"I don't look that decrepit, Do I Carter?" he groused. One kneed popped as if to mock his words.

"Of course not," said Sam. She flashed a grin and began, " Should we all-". She cut herself off when Kel'i'neq sat as well and tugged at Sam's hand. "Sir?" She nodded at the impromptu pow-wow.

"Ah, it's their way of showing who's the boss. Go ahead, both of you, but I want you to keep an eye on those archers over there, Kawalsky." Jack could feel Dan'i'el's searing gaze while he shifted his weapon awkwardly; no way in hell was he comfortable like this, plus Dan'i'el's rapt attention was unnerving.

Kel'i'neq started playing with Sam's much shorter haircut when she had settled on the ground at Jack's left. Other than sharing a half-smile with her, the entire group sat in an uncomfortable silence.

"Goa'uld must go or sick," Dan'i'el said while pointing at Charlie, though not unkindly.

:Not a Goa'uld," said Charlie. "Tok'ra. And I'd let you see the difference, but Jolinar is feeling pretty bad right now."

Dan'i'el glanced at Jack again just as he was assessing his friend's countenance for illness. "Not know this word, Tok'ra. Tok'ra. Tok'ra." His mouth caressed the word slowly with each repetition. Jack discreetly shifted his body and squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments, but the images of a pink tongue and full, pliable lips were branded in his mind.

Damned half-naked aliens. Digging up urges and awakening fantasies that Jack had successfully buried _somewhat_ efficiently..

He opened his eyes again to see both his teammates in discussion regarding how much to reveal about the Tok'ra while Dan'i'el was watching him with a hint of a smile on those lips. One faint tip of his head was all Jack would do to acknowledge…well, whatever it was sparking between them that he probably shouldn't acknowledge. It was kind of pissing him off a little bit on how swiftly this guy was knocking down his defenses without much effort.

Jack turned his attention to his team. "So kids, Bra'tac'll be better in a few hours according to Tarzan over here." He waved a careless hand at Dan'i'el, who waved back and grinned like a huge dork. Jack fought against rolling his eyes. "Whaddya say we blow this popstand and get Jolinar off this planet? We can come back with a snake-free team, no offense, Charlie."

"I'm on board with that," Charlie said, grimacing. "I feel like shit. Which is probably a good thing if it means they have some sort of weapon or defense system that attacks Goa'uld biology, but…blegh," he added, swiping a hand over his face.

"Good idea," said Sam. "Even if these people don't recognize the Tok'ra, there is something on this planet hurting Jolinar. And it didn't take very long at all to hurt Master Bra'tac. Listen, Dan'i'el," Sam scooted forward, warming to her subject. "I don't know if you'll understand much of this, but there seems to be some substance emanating a wavelength of radiation from this planet or possibly an object of some sort. Whatever the source, this electromagnetic wavelength is damaging both Bra'tac's larval Goa'uld and the Tok'ra Jolinar that Major Kawlasky is hosting."

"Might as well be singing showtunes to this guy Carter," Jack snapped; the entire situation coupled with the fact that his hormones were unexpectedly vying for his attention curdled sourly within his stomach. Edging around the reality wasn't getting them anywhere.

"I know you want to learn to speak English like the cool kids," he said, turning to Dan'i'el, "but how about we have a nice conversation about what's wrong with two of my men. And why we've got ourselves both a babysitter and a complimentary collection of guards, eh there Dan'i'el?" Because it hadn't gone unnoticed by him that more than a few of the natives had gathered near the tent fringes and next to the hammock that held Bra'tac.

Kel'i'neq dropped her fingers from Sam's hair and lay her hand on Jack's knee in a soothing motion. Jack instinctively jerked his P-90 backward; why the hell did these guys have to be so touchy-feely? He watched as Dan'i'el studied each member of DC1 in turn, jaw lax and eyes wide. Dan'i'el said something to the girl and she nodded, climbed to her feet, and skipped off to the opposite side of the tent.

A strained silence followed; Jack wasn't sure if the language difficulties were authentic or just a way to further his team's ignorance. Sam looked like she wanted to launch into another speech but didn't know what words to use. Charlie was starting to show some of the same evidence of illness that Bra'tac had earlier.

It was time for some answers; things were about to fall apart. Dan'i'el apparently agreed because he glanced over at the natives still hovering near Bra'tac and at the ones gathered near the tent fringe. He lowered his voice and said, "Furling not know word Tok'ra but know Goa'uld and Jaffa from old tales. Dan'i'el not know many trade words but more than many blue caste." His eyes darted around again and he licked his lips. Jack felt the air crackle with an additional tension; this must have been what the natives had been arguing about earlier and Dan'i'el appeared frustrated that he couldn't' express himself clearly.

"Dan'i'el learn many words, different tongues, to make ready." He paused, chewing on his lips in thought, then leaned forward and spread his palms flat onto the ground so his fingers sank into the powdery soil he'd stirred up. Jack worked to ignore how his thigh tingled where Dan'i'el's knee pushed against him.

"I Dreamed of you," Dan'i'el finally whispered. His eyes flicked to the other natives before settling on Jack's. "Many Dreams brought to the White caste."

Sam's eyebrows shot up and Charlie elbowed Jack half-heartedly. "Oh really," Charlie said. "He dreamed of you, Colonel."

Jack shifted, embarassed. "Dreamed of me, huh. Must have been some nightmare," he said flippantly.

Dan'i'el slashed downward with his hand in a universal sign for no. "Never since kinderhouse Dan'i'el has Dream so strong, even Smoke Dream."

"You don't say?" Jack said lightly. Yeah, this guy had definitely been smoking something, that was for sure.

"Colonel Jack O' Neill, listen!" Dan'i'el's voice dropped to a harsh whisper laced with aggrivation. Jack ducked his head as if he'd been scolded. Both Sam and Charlie joined him in tightening up their circle. Jack felt like a preschooler.

"Fine, what? I get that there's something these other guys don't want you to tell us."

"I Dream of you. Many Dreams. White caste in…interpret- this is word, yes? Dan'i'el knows DC1 on Klorphyll to change Furling; bring back past. Primary knows this, believe this, Secondary and Tertiaries not so much." He slid a length of his kilt to reveal a flash of upper thigh. Strapped to his leg beneath the material were a jeweled dagger and a small pouch from which he withdrew a half-dollar sized replica of a DHD on a chain.

Jack sucked in a sharp breath and heard Sam do the same.

"That is…holy Hannah, that is incredible! Is it actually functional or just a figure?" The likeness was unmistakable.

"Jolinar's seen versions of this before," Charlie said softly. "It works, doesn't it?"

Dan'i'el nodded. Then he pushed the mini-DHD into Jack's hand curled both their fingers around it without letting go. "Dan'i'el not to have key for Stargate. Is forbidden." His eyes were wide and pleading though, so Jack took the pendant and stuffed it into a pocket, feeling empty at the loss of contact.

"This key, you say it's for a Stargate. Is this your word for the Doorway to Heaven?"

"Not know Doorway. Stargate is forbidden to Furlings. Many words and holdings of past deep inside caves. Most Furling only Dream or Mate or dine. Only blue caste knows of Furling past, and even then…" he trailed off, saddened.

Across the tent, Dan'i'el's people were beginning to appear nervous. Jack watched carefully in case there were problems with Bra'tac. It didn't look like it, but Bel'i'lune and others were rushing in and out of the tent and speaking urgently to those guarding by the tent-edge.

Dan'i'el's fidgeting ratcheted up a notch. "Fast fast, now. Listen." He glanced over at the tent-edge and Jack followed his eye line. Yep. Something was totally up; he hoped the other natives weren't about to start nocking arrows.

"Friend Bra'tac ill, Tok'ra ill because of Life. Furling Life make baby Goa'uld expire, but orange caste heals Jaffa. Understand?"

"Not really," said Jack. Half his attention was on the other edgy natives.

"Furling," said Sam. "Is this the name of your planet or your people? And is this 'life' a weapon?"

Dan'i'el began speaking rapidly, his unease palpable. "Yes Furling, Dan'i'el, Kel'i'neq, Jon'i'quill, Del'i'neq, all Furling. Life inside Furling, inside here." He knocked on his bare chest at his sternum. "Life kill Goa'uld; kill Tok'ra if you say Tok'ra same. Furling fight Goa'uld in past but not fight now. Only for… for…," he stumbled over the words again: Jack wished this was easier because now several of the natives- Furlings- were entering the tent and headed toward them. "Furling fight for protection only, but past were great warriors, fight Goa'uld with Life," Dan'i'el finished nearly too late.

Jack, Sam, and Charlie scrambled to their feet as the Furlings reached them. Some he recognized; Bel'i'lune had shouted Dan'i'el's name loudly and was now chattering at him in anger, and Del'i'neq trailed behind two strapping Furlings with a worried look upon his face. Jon'i'quill and several other unnamed Furlings grabbed Dan'i'el by his arms. Another retrieved the young girl Kel'i'neq and admonished her in their language.

"Wait a minute!" Jack barked. "Carter?" He urged her to raise her weapon and Charlie followed suit. "Hold on! Dan'i'el was just trying to put us at ease here, way the hell more than anything you guys have bothered with!"

The Furlings were now all shouting at each other, some pulling a bitching, stubborn Dan'i'el toward the outside of the tent. Dan'i'el jerked one arm free and grasped at the air toward Jack. "Not speak of words Dan'i'el give you Jack O' Neill?" he begged, the desperation in his icy-blue eyes slamming right into Jack's gut.

"Got it, Dan'i'el," he shouted over the loud arguing. He stared at the naked emotion flitting across Dan'i'el's face until the tent fringes broke their connection. Most of the Furlings followed. DC-1 was left with Del'i'neq and one other native that could only be construed as guards.

"Ah crap," he said, releasing his grip on his P-90. "This sucks." Sam let her weapon drop as well and murmured an agreement.

"What the fuck?" said Charlie. "He told us that life thing is gonna kill Jolinar, right? She feels like shit, Jack. Absolutely. I need to get the hell off this planet if they aren't going to help me like they are Bra'tac." He pressed his knuckles against his forehead, gritting his teeth, and dropped back down to sit on the dirt.

"And you!" Jack said angrily, pointing his finger in Del'i'neq's face. "What are they going to do to Dan'i'el? And don't tell give me that shit about not understanding me."

Del'i'neq appeared even more sheepish. He pulled his braid over one shoulder and pointed at the fiery red ribbon twined within. The second Furling waved his arm toward the direction the others had pulled Dan'i'el. "Dan'i'el to Primary," he said, and then spoke the rest of his sentence in the Furling language.

"Yeah, that helps a lot." Jack kicked a clump of dirt and looked over at Bra'tac resting peacefully on the hammock. Sam had gone to his side since he was unprotected now other than one very meek looking Furling adorned in both orange clothing and ribbons.

"I agree that we need to get both Bra'tac and you home, Charlie, but I also think we need to work out some kind of alliance with these people too. The evidence of an abdominal pouch, the quality of the naquadah, the tech involved in that miniaturized DHD if it actually works-", she returned to their side of the tent and joined Charlie on the ground. "It's too much to abandon, but we need to get you two back home."

"Yeah," said Charlie, "I understand. And don't forget that 'life' thing Dan'i'el tried to tell us about it. Did you hear that? It _kills_ the Goa'uld, and I'm guessing it's by proximity alone!"

"The Pentagon would do backflips to get their grubby paws on this 'life' thing. Same with the NID. That Balloon chick-"

"Bel'i'lune," Sam automatically corrected.

"Whatever. She said Bra'tac would be better in half a day. If we don't see any results at…oh," he glanced at his chronometer, "twenty-two hundred, we head back to the Door. Check-in's eight hours away anyhow." He pushed off of the pole he'd been leaning against and started walking over to the opposite side of the tent. "If you two want to rest for a while, I'll keep watch. It's a long hike back."

With that, he gave Bra'tac a quick once over- he had to admit his friend's coloring actually did seem to be improving- and sat at the base of the hammock. The Furling still treating Bra'tac retreated to a corner of the tent, shooting wary glances at Jack the entire time.

After a while, he started tracing his thumb over the delicate indentions on the miniature DHD sequestered in his pocket. Sam would have to investigate it later, when it was safe. Jack knew leaving this planet for now was probably the best option. Still, his instincts insisted they stick it out. No doubt he was drawn to both the promise of sweet new tech and to the eye-candy, but Dan'i'el in particular intrigued him just from their short time together.

The prospect was both dangerous and tempting. It was a sickly-sweet feeling, a pull of lust from deep in his belly that slowly engulfed every nerve like a thick molasses. It'd been a couple of years from his last flush of craving for the touch of male flesh; this time it had hit him quick, like a punch in the gut. Primal emotions were always the harder ones to resist, he mused.

Jack eyed Del'i'neq and the unknown Furling as they played at amateur guard duty. He and Sam could take them down easily if necessary. It was too bad doing so would fuck things up irrevocably. This 'life' weapon was a big enough deal that the other Furlings may have just dragged Dan'i'el off for divulging its existence.

For that or for one of the other secrets. He fingered the mini-DHD again, twisting the chain around his fingers. He'd get half his team back to the Door, but then he vowed to help Dan'i'el out if necessary. Who knew what sort of punishments these Furlings doled out, and it sure the hell looked like they were ready to chastise Dan'i'el.

He sighed and leaned back against the hammock support. For now, all he could do was wait.

* * *

notes: Thanks for reading, comments are appreciated! Again, this hasn't been beta read, only run through a spellchecker and my own eyes a few times. The next chapter will be up a few weeks from now. I have to get used to a new school year first plus write a one-shot for a livejournal challenge first. I'm having such fun with this little Furling universe though that I may end up working on it sooner than planned! 


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